Use and Abuse
by silver666
Summary: A dream of the past and a confrontation between Gisborne and the sheriff. Gisborne remembers his first meeting with the older man and thinks of his treatment in Nottingham. Slash GuySheriff.


He hurt. All he knew at that moment in time was pain. Whimpering slightly in pain he curled into the feotal position wishing the pain would stop. The door to the room creaked open. He looked to the door, squinting against the light that hurt his eyes and made them water. A shadow fell across him and he was lifted clean off the floor. Panicking slightly he began struggling but couldn't keep up his weak defence for long. The person who had lifted him carried him from the room and outside where the light caused him to groan and screw his eyes shut. The man carrying him looked down concerned but continued out of the building. It was cold outside and he shivered as he was lifted into a carriage. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders as he was sat on one of the carriage's seats and he chanced his luck by opening his eyes. It was darker in the carriage and there was a young man sitting across from him.

"What's your name?" the man questioned.

"Guy, sir," he answered quietly.

"Your parents dead Guy?" the man continued.

"Yes sir," he nodded slightly.

"I assume you weren't treated well in that house," the man stated causing him to shrug uncomfortably. "You wont be going back, I need a servant, serve me well and you'll be rewarded, otherwise I will kill you."

"Yes sir," there was no fear in his voice.

"Good boy," the man smiled. "When we reach my manor I will arrange for you to be cleaned up, as soon as you're dressed I want to see you in my office, for now get some rest."

"Yes sir," he mumbled sleepily.

He rested his head back against the seat and allowed his eyes to fall closed. In moments he was asleep and his new master looked over at him with a small almost indulgent smile.

They quickly arrived and his master gently shook him awake. Sleepily rubbing his eyes he followed the man from the carriage and into the manor they had stopped in front of. He was sent with an elderly servant to get cleaned up and dressed. The servants looked at him in a mixture of pity and concern as he was shown to the bath that had been prepared prior to his arrival. He ignored the looks and quickly stripped off, slipping into the warm water and cleaning his

bruised and battered body. As soon as he was clean he climbed out of the bath and drying off as fast as he was able he pulled on the clothes that were laid out for him. Another servant led him up to his master's office still giving him pitying looks.

He knocked once on the door and his master's voice rang out instructing him to enter. He did so and the man gestured for him to approach. Without a word, or hesitation, he did as he was instructed. The man stood and led him around the desk before retaking his seat and gently pulling Guy onto his lap. Frowning the boy looked up at his master in confusion and the older man bent foward capturing his lip in a kiss. He didn't know how to react but opened his mouth when the older man ran a tongue across his bottom lip begging for entrance. The older man's hand found its way up Guy's shirt running across his soft, battered skin, before pulling the top off. He had never been involved in such an activity before and allowed his new master to lead him, wincing from time to time only when the older man came in contact with particularly sensitive parts of his skin. His master lifted him, carrying him to the bed, and began moving on top of him. Hesitantly he reached up loosening his master's robes. The man smiled wolfishly at him, encouraging him to continue as he slipped the expensive garments off the lithe figure. He was barely aware of his master removing his trousers, so intent on pleasing the man. His master removed both of their trousers, gently caressing his exposed skin. Unable to help himself he gasped and whimpered as his master led him through the new experience. He couldn't help but cry out in pain as his master entered his tight opening, but it was pain laced with pleasure, and his master paused whispering soothingly until he got used to the pressure of the older man's cock inside him. Once he had relaxed his master gripped his hips rocking gently in and out of him. Eyes rolling back in pleasure he urged the man to go harder and his master was all to willing to comply: tightening the grip on his hips and moving both harder and faster. His whimpers returned as his master bit down, hard enough to draw blood, on his shoulder: coming inside of him and causing him to spill his seed. The older man exited him falling to the side and pulling him close with a sigh of contentment. Allowing his eyes to fall closed he rested his head on his master's shoulder tiredly. His master chuckled at his actions causing him to look up sleepily.

"My lord?" he mumbled.

"How old are you Guy?" the man questioned.

"Fifteen," he answered.

"Have you ever done somethiing like that before?" his master continued.

"No, it was nice," he blushed slightly.

The older man chuckled, "Would you like to do it again, in the future?"

"Mmhmm," he nodded and yawned. "Sorry."

"Ssh," his master soothed. "Get some rest."

Nodding again he curled up against the older man's side quickly falling into the best sleep he had had in years. His master to began to doze, holding him comfortingly.

Present

Gisborne rolled over in his sleep, waking as he came in contact with something solid. His eyes fluttered open and he looked at the sheriff sleepily before sighing and rolling out of the bed. There was a bowl of cold water on the unit by his bed side and he wiped his face, seeing the deep bruising across his hips. Drying his face he ran a finger across the bruises, wincing as he did so. Sighing again he pulled on a loose pair of trousers and moved to look out the window. The first time the sheriff had taken him the older man had been gentle, manipulating him into a false sense of security so he would agree to repeating the act, but since that night all their encounters meant for him was pain. He didn't know why he didn't protest, he supposed a part of him still believed that it wouldn't always be like that, still relished in the small displays of affection, still enjoyed the feeling of being penetrated, but another part of him, the continually growing part, screamed for a release, for him to be free of his master, to have his body to himself, for the pain to stop.

He heard the sheriff wake and froze. He continued to stare lifelessly out of the window at the dark sky as the older man approached him. Refused to shiver as warm hands skimmed over his cold skin, cooled by the castle air. The sheriff's hands joined in front of him at his waist, wrapping him in an embrace that was far from comforting. His master's lips were working away at kissing and nipping the back of his neck but he refused to respond.

"You're brooding," the sheriff mumbled.

"I'm tired my lord," he sighed.

"The last time you told me that you were contemplating whether to betray me for your friend Lambert," the older man stated.

"He's dead now," he pointed out. "You killed him."

"He betrayed you," the sheriff hissed. "Slighted your loyalty."

"Oh like you don't do that every day, every night," he scoffed before he could stop himself.

The older man forced him to turn and their eyes met, "what's that supposed to mean."

"Nothing," he swallowed. "I apologise my lord, I didn't mean anything."

"No, tell me," the sheriff kissed his jaw bone softly.

He closed his eyes, "You're using me, you make me do your dirty work during the day and then at night you use my body for your own pleasure."

"I allow you your freedom," the older man growled.

"You keep me on a leash," he stated.

"I could keep you in chains," his master reminded. "No one would care, no one would protest."

"Please," he couldn't stop the tear that made its way down his cheek. "It hurts, I just want the pain to stop, look at my skin," he moved the trousers to reveal the bruises.

The sheriff touched the skin, "I could've made them worse, why have you never complained before? You've had ample opportunity."

"Because there is a part of me that enjoys it," he whispered. "Enjoys it when you show me even the smallest inch of affection."

"Ssh," the sheriff hugged him. "Go lie on the bed and close your eyes."

Slightly hesitantly Guy did as he was instructed. He heard the sheriff rumage in the cabinet by the side of the bed, which he wasn't allowed to look in. He couldn't help but jump slightly as a cold liquid was poured on his back but kept his eyes screwed closed. The sheriff began rubbing the liquid into his skin whispering soothingly in his ear. In moments he began to relax, enjoying the feeling that the sheriff actually cared for him. A scream found its way past his lips as something was brought down hard on his exposed skin. Another strike and another scream before the sheriff ran a hand through his hair murmering calmingly as he gasped, tears cascading down his face. Some guards called through the door asking if he were alright and gritting his teeth he responded that he was fine, that they were to ignore any noises coming from the room. The guards clattered away and telling him he was a good boy the sheriff continued to hit his skin. He bit his lower lip to stop crying out. The whipping, for that's what it was regardless of what the older man was using, stopped and the sheriff pulled off his baggy trousers, entering him with a single,quick, thrust. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't stop a whimper escaping. Rather than softening to his plight the older man simply laughed, purposely putting pressure on the new wounds on his skin.

When the sheriff exited him he simply lay lax on the bad, his head buried in his pillow. Sitting, propped up against the pillows by his head the older man ran a hand through his hair whispering soothingly. Wiping his eyes he shakily pushed himself up, turning to face the sheriff.

"Why?" he asked.

"You know why I did it," the older man spoke gently. "You've become too free-spirited, got above yourself to the stage where you would consider challenging me, perhaps that's my fault, perhaps I have allowed you too much freedom in recent years."

"No," his voice shook.

"You don't believe I have allowed you enough freedom," the sheriff smiled playing with the younger man's hair. "I know you don't understand just now but some day you will."

"Can't you explain it now?" he sounded almost childlike.

Vaizey hugged him, "You're still so young, perhaps you're right about needing more freedom."

"Don' want it," he mumbled. "Jus' want you to show me you care from time to time."

"I thought you knew I did," the sheriff brushed a kiss across his brow.

"I know you're manipulating me again," he whispered. "I'm not going to do anything about it because I don't mind. I just wanted you to know that I know."

The older man chuckled, "I'm glad you're honest but I want you to know I do care, I may not always show it but I do care."

"Thanks," he yawned. "Sorry."

"Ssh," the sheriff placed a finger over his lips. "Get some rest, I'll still be here when you wake up."

"Promise?" he looked up at the older man wide-eyed.

"I promise," the sheriff knew what he was doing was wrong.

Gisborne's eyes drifted closed and in moments he was asleep. Watching him drift off the sheriff was surprised to feel slightly guilty; the younger man was right about being used but the sheriff couldn't help it. The younger man was just so damned tempting. With a sigh and a smile he drifted off to sleep wondering what he could find to 'punish' the younger man next.

_**Fin**_


End file.
